She will claw at her own weaknesses and tear herself apart. She will criticize every modicum until nothing is left at last. She will kill the good inside of her as she exterminates the bad. She will do what it takes to destroy the girl she sees in the mirror – to erase the existence she doesn’t want. She will.

He’s different. He won’t admit his troubles and he’ll hide away his secrets. He’ll press his head against the pillow and be consumed by sheer insomnia. He’s hiding too much. He’s not letting it out. He wrestles with the pain day in and day out. He’ll lie to his friends and smile like a ghost. He won’t try to change for he thinks he’s alright. He won’t make a move because he’s scared of the consequence. He won’t.

She’ll lose all her friends someday due to her self-destructive personality.

He’ll lose all his friends someday due to his lies and fabrications.

She won’t meet him and he won’t meet her. Their worlds will not collide.

They’re not the same. Not at all. Yet somehow, they are plagued and haunted by something too similar. The monster that lurks in the darkest of souls.

It’s not easy to hunt and not easy to kill what has grown for so long. Her desperation has amounted to nothing and the creature has only fortified itself. It will eat her alive.

His monster is suppressed, but growing in power. He won’t be able to hold out for long.

Neither will look for help. One tries to change and the other tries every possible method not to. Yet the both of them will not slay this monster by doing what they do. Monsters aren’t meant to be fought alone. Monsters aren’t meant to be ignored.

She thinks herself a hero, a warrior with a mission. She thinks herself substantial enough to kill the beast. She’ll draw her sword and face it head on. No armor. She has no armor. Her delicate self lies vulnerable to the monster.

He hides in his castle, building more and more walls. He’s upgrading the defenses and ignoring the threat. He won’t attack. He’ll defend for his life. Still, all walls will crack eventually. All castles will erode. He can’t run forever.

Time is running out for the two of them.

There’s no way to make it all disappear.

Reality always hurts the most. Reality always finds its way through the gaps even if you try to shut it out. Reality doesn’t wait for you to get better and it won’t wait for them either. Yet somehow it’s not a matter of what reality is, but what is done with it.


Stories Unwritten

I thought I told you to go away already.

A bedtime story? Fine. As long as you’re not asking about them.

I’ll tell you about the Archangel Creya. The one that was forced to wield the double swords. The Judgement of the Gods and the Judgement of Hell. Tragic? Not really.

Hey, you’re not going to cry for her are you? If so, I’m not saying another word.

Why is she carrying both swords? There’s too much blood in this story for a little guy like you.

You’re seventeen? Gee, you don’t look it.

Oh right. The modifications.

Back to the story? Oh all right, if you insist.

The wielding of the two swords was a burden for her. In a way, her blessings became her curse.

Yes, she was in love.

Oh right. Not this again. You really can’t comprehend the sentiment known as love? Then I really don’t want to explain it. It’s hard, really.

Who was she in love with? That’s a good question.

Both the archangels and the fallen angels adored her. She was wonderful really. Her demon wings would replace her swift angelic ones when she entered hell, but she would keep on wielding both swords. Why? For protection of course. The swords were more powerful than you can imagine.

How did she die? What is it with you and death? You always seem to want to know more about it. You’re far too young to be thinking about that. Far too young. And she’s not dead. Not really. In a sense, I suppose, but not truly.

She’s caught.

That’s the word for it.


Like a bird in netting, she’s bound.

Trapped between the two worlds.

In both and yet not really in either.

I shan’t say anymore. Hurry off now and go to bed.

I can’t say anything more tonight.


I don’t always make sense. Actually, I wonder if I ever do.

That’s not a good thing. I know. You don’t have to rub it in my face until tears come out. Oh wait. You don’t do that. I wish you did.

I see you’re bringing her up again. I’m tired of talking about her.

Him? Why do you always want to hear about those two interchangeably?

Fine. I’ll tell you something you don’t want to hear.

She’s dead. He’s dead. They’re both gone now. Why bother knowing the whole story?

Want to know how she died?

The virus. It infected her systems. I suppose you could say it make her sick…though she was immune to most diseases.

It was impossible to extract. Oh wow. Now you’re going to cry?

Seriously? What’s the point of asking if you’re just going to sob at every little thing?

She didn’t even die from the virus. Don’t look at me with those eyes. I’m not telling you how she died.

I promised? Did I? I just asked if you wanted to know how she died. I made no such promise that I actually would.

Tomorrow I’ll tell you. When you’re ready.

Now go away. Have I ever told you how annoying you are? Never? Well you are extremely that.

Now hurry off. Protector is waiting. Go on.


Sometimes my hearts. It hurts a lot.

Physically. Probably not mentally? At least I think it’s my heart.

Sometimes I question my sanity.

I’m probably not sane.

I love the word probably.

Pro-ba-bly. Yum.

She’s growing stronger everyday.

She learned to wield a bow today. A solar-powered bow that shoots electrifying arrows. How wonderful.

She asks why she can’t use a gun. The Professor tells her that guns can be self-detrimental. She laughs at the idea. The Professor sighs and gives her the gun.

She shoots.

Not satisfied. Her arrow travels farther though the gun is faster.

She gives him the gun.

He shoots. Smiles.

She lets him keep it.

They exit the ruins and return back to the labratory.

The Professor starts to cry. Takes the gun and fires at a steel wall. It ricochets.

Blood everywhere.

No one will save the Professor.

They don’t need one anymore.



I don’t know where I’m going. No one knows, really. Some claim to know, but in reality, they’re only lying. Why am I calling them liars? Huh, wouldn’t you like to know.

Knowing. What a strange thing to do. I’m not sure I ‘know’ anything. I am, however, sure that knowing is impossible and very possible at the same time. Like this instant for example. Do I know or am I a person who is completely clueless, a person that doesn’t know? Am I pretending to know by acting like I don’t know? It’s completely hard to tell, isn’t it?

I suppose I am both. Someone who knows and someone who doesn’t. I hate thinking, but I like writing my thoughts down.  So many contradictions, so many similarities. I can’t tell where my thoughts are directed anymore. It’s like the whole word has turned upside down, but yet at the same time, I can see things right side up. Isn’t that world a silly place? Aren’t I a strange person? Isn’t everyone? I don’t know anything.


I wonder why no matter how far I go, I find myself turning back.

I loved you. Or so I thought.

Who is he to judge what I can and cannot do?

Who is he anyway?

You knew everything. I relied on that fact far too heavily. I’m telling this story now because of you, because of who you were. I want everyone to know what you did wasn’t right.

I want myself to know that you were wrong.

Still, I can’t tell my friends. I can’t tell the public. What I know must stay a secret. I can’t tell anyone. It’s forbidden.


it seems like life is a repeated cycle, staying the same…but evolving.

what do you do when you’re stuck at a wall and you can’t keep changing?

it’s hard. really hard.

it’s like you know something is in store for you, but you can’t see past the concrete. you don’t know if what you know is true.

what would happen if the wall disappeared?

would you know what to do with all that freedom? or will it all slip away before your eyes? you can never be sure until you do break it down.

so why hesitate? what is stopping the total destruction of such a road block?

it’s you. definitely you.

you can try to deny it however much, but in the end it all comes back.

possibilities lie in your hand waiting for you to use them. try it someday. it’ll definitely be better than what you have now. even if you fail the first time. or the second time. or every time after that. you’ll find out what things are meant for you and what are not.

you’ll learn to like things that you’ve never seen before because you were stuck behind that wall.

so why not tear that wall down now?

stop lying in the shadows.

the world’s not going to wait for you.